Peanut Butter and Mayonnaise
by julliet15
Summary: "If I were to look at our relationship rationally, it would make as much sense as peanut butter and mayonnaise." A short series of fluffy one-shots featuring Henry and Eliza at their finest. Rated T for slightly suggestive content and mild language.
1. Wedding Day

**This fic is about Henry and Eliza's wedding day. Do you really need any more information?**

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><p>Sunlight gushed through an open bay window as the wind gently pushed aside gauzy curtains whose material was similar to that of a wedding veil. Henry stood in front of a mirror besides the window, his fingers struggling with the black bow tie at his neck. He was wearing a slimming black suit that he had made sure was wrinkle free, and shoes that he had spent at least a gallon of shoe shiner on. Everything about his attire was perfect, from his gelled sweep of jet black hair to the soles of his very expensive designer shoes - except for his bow tie. In his first attempt to tie it, the right side was far too long. In his second attempt, it was the left side that was too long. In his third attempt, when his fingers were agitated with frustration, it looked like a six-year-old had tried to tie it like a shoelace. A combination of a growl and a whine escaped from Henry's mouth as he jerked the end of the bow tie to unravel it again.<p>

"You, Mr. Bow Tie, are very close to finding yourself being thrown out the window," Henry grumbled, even though he knew he needed that bow tie to complete his outfit; after all, grooms did not get married without some kind of tie.

Henry shook his head, hardly able to believe the fact that in a few minutes he would be forever attaching his life to Eliza Dooley, a girl that had previously worn his nerves to frayed strings. Although sometimes she still did that, she also continually unleashed the part of Henry that he never wanted to admit existed until now. The part that got a thrill out of running into a lake stark naked, or screaming Blues Traveler lyrics until his vocal cords were shredded, or bungee jumping off a bridge (which he hadn't yet done, but he didn't put it past Eliza to try to coax him into doing it for the sake of an awesome selfie). Eliza could still be a little self-absorbed and rude sometimes, but she always worked hard to make things right when she made a mistake and to be there for her friends. She had even helped Charmonique with her son when he broke his arm falling out of a tree. Henry came to the hospital waiting room to find Eliza holding hands with Charmonique and whispering reassurances to her. That was the night Henry knew that he needed to marry her.

He wished his proposal to Eliza had gone better. A romantic picnic in the park rapidly vanished into a deluge of rainwater, mud-soaked shoes, and Eliza's high-pitched whine due to said mud-soaked shoes. When they had finally found shelter underneath a sagging blue awning and he fumbled out the ring, Eliza took one look at him and fled. Every step he took in trying to find her that misty day only succeeded in grinding his heart into finer and finer dust. He saw her name on the Caller ID of his phone the next day, and for a moment he considered sending her to voicemail and never thinking of her again. But of course with Eliza that would be impossible. His hand was hovering over the handset, when the ringing suddenly stopped, and somehow he knew that once he turned around, he would see a trembling Eliza looking through the glass wall of his house. A smile flickered on her face, but nervousness quickly killed it before it could take full force.

Henry opened the door and Eliza said, "Hi."

"Hi," Henry replied.

Eliza blinked and licked her lips.

"Why did you call if you were already here?" Henry asked.

"You told me that it's customary to call before visiting," she reminded him.

A small chuckle broke out before Henry could stop himself, and he opened his door wider.

"Won't you come in, then?" he invited.

"Thank you," she accepted, dipping her head before coming in.

Eliza sat on his couch, not in the usual slouching way that she adopted like she had been there for years, but in a painfully upright position that was more in line with his character. He sat next to her - too close, because for a moment her bare knee came into contact with his knee and catalyzed all sorts of reactions that Henry still didn't know how to deal with. Henry scratched his Adam's apple and scooted away from her, but he soon discovered that the effort was no good, because Eliza decided to take his hands in hers.

"Henry…" she whispered, before stopping and looking down.

This was it. This was the moment she was going to dump him. All of her pouty smiles, her quirky hashtags, her immature but still hilarious jokes, gone from his life forever. He couldn't imagine them being friends again after this; he had already fallen in too deep, probably from the moment he saw her on the day of Saperstein's daughter's wedding. Why did Henry think a relationship between the two of them would actually work out? Honestly, he should have been more realistic.

"Henry," Eliza repeated, louder and firmer this time as if she could hear Henry's thoughts.

Henry stopped his mental rant of despair and looked at her directly.

"I love you," said Eliza. "Before I say anything else you have to know that." Henry nodded. "I love you and I want to marry you."

Henry's eyes widened and the corners of his mouth quivered. "Wha-?"

"Please let me finish," said Eliza. "I'm sorry I ran away yesterday, but I was afraid. I had no idea you were going to propose. I hadn't even thought about marriage until you popped the question. I was a little caught off guard."

"I'm sorry if I rushed you," apologized Henry, tightening his hold of Eliza's hands. "We don't have to talk about it until you're ready - "

"No, I want to talk about it. I've been thinking really hard about this and before I put that ring on my finger (BTW, can I say hash-tag GORGEOUS, hash-tag HOWMUCHDIDTHATCOSTYOU?), I need to get something off my chest. I have no doubt in my mind that I love you, but you know that my home life was not that great. My parents had a really nasty divorce, and I don't even talk to my dad anymore. I just didn't want the same thing to happen…"

"To us?"

Eliza nodded.

"Well, I won't tell you that there's no risk in taking this step," said Henry. "But if you're willing to stick with me, and I with you, even when life doesn't look like the rose-colored filter you always like to use for your Instagram photos…" Eliza laughed, and Henry smiled at her before continuing. "I think we can have a successful relationship. So, I still stand by my proposal. But if you want to hold off for a while, I will respect your wishes."

"I know you will."

Eliza looked at Henry for several long moments with soft eyes, before a smile suddenly exploded on her face and she jumped onto Henry like he was the last miniskirt in the store. She kissed him hungrily, while he helplessly tried to remember what he was supposed to do with his mouth and his hands. When she finally released from holding his lips hostage, his puppy-dog face was painted with smears of glittering, hot pink lipstick.

"Uh…" Henry stammered. "What was that?"

"It was me saying yes, you dork!" Eliza said, before pulling him in for another kiss.

Henry shared the same heart-bursting feeling he had in that moment as he relived it in the cream-colored room in which he was preparing for his wedding. Henry sighed and looked again at the tie hanging around his neck. Eliza wasn't going to marry a guy who had an improperly tied tie; she had taken twenty-four hours before saying yes to his proposal, and he couldn't afford to do anything that would make her rethink this. Henry was in the middle of attempt number four with his bow tie, when a demanding knock at the door interrupted him. Frowning, Henry opened the door and revealed a woman with almond-shaped brown eyes, shoulder-length black hair, and a smirk pasted onto her maroon lips. Her hoop earrings danced as she leaned her head back and fluffed her hair for a moment, before she pointed to Henry's bow tie and laughed.

"You must have tied one of those things before at least a hundred times, and today is the day you can't do it?" she said.

"Leave me alone, Sally," Henry grumbled, ready to close the door, before her manicured hand held it back.

"Hey, I am a woman on a mission," protested Sally. "I just came from seeing your fiancé."

"Is she all right?"

Henry pressed his face towards Sally's with anxiety tightening his features, and Sally gently pushed against his chest to signal him to lean back.

"She's fine," assured Sally. "Is there a reason you're so worried?"

"No," Henry asserted.

Sally scoffed and dropped her purse from her shoulder. "I know my cousin better than that. Now real quick, let me fix your bow tie."

"I can do it myself."

"Clearly you can't, so let me do it."

Henry was ready to protest, but realized that his infuriating tie couldn't be done in his frazzled state of mind.

"Fine."

The tip of Sally's tongue split the end of the seam of her mouth as her fingers guided the black fabric into the appropriate loops.

"So tell me why you're worried about Eliza," Sally bade.

"It's nothing, I just…"

"Yes?"

Henry turned his attention to fixing his cuff before replying, "I keep thinking she might change her mind about marrying me."

Sally gasped and swatted Henry's shoulder.

"How could you think that? You're a great catch! You're hardworking, you're kind, you're sweet, you're sexy - "

"Okay, stop," Henry said, mentally begging his ears to stop turning red.

"My point is that Eliza is as thrilled about marrying you as you are about her," Sally said. "I saw it in her eyes just this morning."

"Did she tell you that she didn't say yes to my proposal right away?" asked Henry. "She ran away from me."

"She was afraid. Like you are right now."

Henry hadn't been looking Sally in the eye, but when she finished speaking, she sandwiched his face between her hands and brought his gaze up to level with hers.

"Eliza was afraid. Is still afraid. But she is serious about marrying you, and I have proof of it."

"What do you mean?" Henry inquired.

Sally let go of Henry and stuffed her hand into her small white leather purse to retrieve a shiny rectangular object. Henry didn't recognize it as Eliza's phone until Sally held it right in front of his face and he could see its bedazzled gold cover.

"Where did this come from?" he questioned, folding his fingers over the phone.

"I didn't come here because I thought you needed checking up - though apparently you did," Sally told him. "Eliza asked me to give this to you, because the only thing she wants to be thinking about today is you."

Henry stared down at the cell phone, which suddenly felt as heavy as a brick in his hand. He swiped the screen to unlock it and her background photo appeared; it was one of the pictures he and Eliza had once taken in a photo booth. Eliza sat on his lap, an action that she had done just seconds before the first picture was taken, leading to his bewildered but lovestruck expression that was now shining at him from the screen of Eliza's phone. That picture practically summed up Henry's entire relationship with Eliza, and Henry laughed in amazement at the sight of it.

"Now are you feeling better?" asked Sally.

"Much, thank you," replied Henry, before squeezing Sally with fierce affection.

"Okay, so you have your perfect bow tie, and the most obvious romantic token your wife-to-be could have given you… Are you ready to get married?"

Excitement bloomed inside his chest, and Henry grinned. "I am."

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><p>When the organ began to sing in its baritone voice the tune of "Here Comes the Bride," Sally gave Henry a thumbs up from the second pew, which Henry returned with an awkward smile. After a few moments, Eliza finally appeared at the end of the aisle, and Henry made a subdued gasp. Eliza's long red hair was wrapped up into a braided bun, with loose curls hanging on either side of her oval face. Her eyelashes formed a dark fringe around her large hazel-green eyes, which were glowing with a happiness that rivaled even Henry's. The skirt of her milk white dress glided on the floor as she slowly walked down the aisle, pressing the lacy gray belt at her waist for a brief moment. Henry guessed that Eliza was wishing her fidgety hands could hold onto something, namely the bouquet of pink daisies that he was currently carrying down the aisle to meet her. Her fingers were warm when she accepted the bouquet from him and laid her hand in the crook of his elbow. The pair walked each other down the remainder of the aisle, with friends, relatives, and co-workers all staring in awe. In all that time, Henry did not feel a tremble of hesitation from the beautiful woman he was locking arms with. When they reached the minister, Henry peeked at the inside of his tuxedo jacket before returning his full attention to Eliza.<p>

Henry and Eliza had decided to recite their own vows, which could not come soon enough for either of them. Eliza was first. For a second Henry thought that Eliza had memorized her vows, since he didn't see a paper in her hand. Then she reached into the crevice between 'the girls' (as she called them) and his eyes momentarily bugged. Seeing his reaction, Eliza shrugged as if to ask where else she could have put it. As Henry tried hard not to think of the possibilities and consequently make himself turn red in the face, Eliza cleared her throat and began to read her heart-dotted handwriting aloud.

"Henry, when I first met you, I thought you were a means to an end," Eliza began. "I wanted to change my image and make some real friends, and I thought that you could help me do that. It turned out that you became my first and best friend, which you still are." Henry smiled and ran his thumb back and forth across the back of her hand. "So, I know I'm not perfect and I don't promise to be perfect, because I would totes - _totally_ - be lying. Sorry Henry, habit. Anyways, even though I'll mess up sometimes, I vow to do what I can to make it up to you when that happens and to treat you fairly and faithfully. I vow to take time out of my day to not be looking at Twitter, or Instagram, or Facebook, or whatever the newest Internet craze is going to be in the next fifty years, and be looking only at you. I vow to make our relationship a top priority in my life, because I love you and I want to be with you for as long as we both shall live."

"You stole that last part," pointed out Henry quietly.

"Yes I know I did," murmured Eliza.

"Henry, your turn," said the minister.

"Yeah, Henry," whispered Eliza.

"Right," said Henry, fishing his paper out of his pocket and swallowing thickly before beginning. "Eliza, if I were to look at our relationship rationally - "

"Oh no," muttered Eliza, only half-teasing; several people who were close enough to hear laughed aloud.

Henry glared at her before continuing. "If I were to look at our relationship rationally, it would make as much sense as peanut butter and mayonnaise." Eliza wrinkled her nose in that adorable way Henry always loved. "Even though a sandwich with that kind of combination is supposed to be disgusting and out-of-place and send you running for the hills…" Henry stared into Eliza's round, childlike eyes, eyes that were unsure of what he would say next, but still trusting him. "It does the exact opposite for me. Because you're so different from me, you stretch me to new lengths and inspire me to new challenges that the old me would have shrunk away from. It reminds me of the day in the summer of 2014 - "

"Henry, I'm saying this with love," whispered Eliza. "Please don't bore everyone with one of your long-ass stories. The vows."

Henry would have been offended if he hadn't glanced at some of the people in the pews lolling their heads - was Larry _drooling_? Gross.

"Right," Henry said, clearing his throat. "So, Eliza, I vow to listen to what you have to say, even if I don't agree with it, because it will probably do a lot of good in the end. I vow to give and take with you as equally as possible. I vow to be your friend first and foremost, because that's how we started and that's how we should end. I vow to always love you, Eliza."

Several aw's from the audience made both Henry and Eliza blush.

"Then by the power vested in me by the state of California," began the minister, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Once their mouths melted into their most winning combination yet, Henry and Eliza couldn't have registered the applause from their friends and relatives even if they wanted to. They eventually pulled away, but when Eliza's hand tried to lead Henry with her down the altar, Henry stood in place.

"What's wrong?" asked Eliza.

"There's just one thing I want to do before we leave," answered Henry.

Henry brought out Eliza's phone from inside his jacket, wearing the most mischievous expression Eliza had probably ever seen him with.

"Post-wedding selfie," he said.

"Oh Henry!" squeaked Eliza.

Seeing the wetness in her eyes, Henry knew he had to act quickly. He pulled Eliza by the waist to his side, and she nuzzled her head in the crook of his neck like he was her favorite down pillow. Henry held out the phone straight in front of them, and Eliza adjusted his arm so that the camera was angled down toward them - the perfect selfie angle. A flash of the camera captured Henry with a small smile that had more joy than the hundreds of taut, polite smiles that he had honed for the professional world; it also captured Eliza, with copper curls tickling the corners of her eyes and a content smile showing a wide row of teeth, which she usually covered with her famous sultry pout that had won her thousands of followers. As they held each other close, their bodies fit together like the black and white pieces of a yin and yang symbol, different and yet symbiotic. The image of the two of them was posted twenty four hours later on Eliza's twitter page with the caption: "Meet the new Mr. Dooley, Henry_Higgs69! Don't be jelly, y'all. #LoveYouBae #BFFL #Mayonnaise". A few minutes later, Henry_Higgs69 retweeted and added: "Love you too. #PeanutButter".

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><p><strong>I do not own Henry or Eliza. But Sally is definitely mine! For the record, I wrote this before I saw the episode where Eliza and Bethany talk about their parent's divorce. I totally called it that Eliza's parents weren't together anymore.<strong>


	2. Four-Eyes

**Lame chapter title. Hopefully better content.**

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><p>Muffled rustling and clattering from down the hall alerted Eliza that Henry was out and about in the kitchen. Eliza feebly kicked away the blankets and rubbed her eyes with the balls of her pale fists before looking around at the sleepy gray walls around her. After a long yawn, she decided that if she didn't get up now, she probably never would. Eliza was soon squishing the thick carpet underneath her pedicured toes as she padded down the corridor at a zombie pace. She was pretty sure that she looked like a zombie, too.<p>

"Good morning," Henry greeted from behind the kitchen counter.

"Morn…" Eliza mumbled, unable to even get out the second syllable in her tiredness.

She blinked at the plate in Henry's hand, which had two whole wheat bagels that were frosted with white cream cheese. Although vaguely aware that it was probably not meant for her, Eliza took the plate from Henry and muttered a thank you before circling to the black couch in the living room. Eliza could sense Henry's affectionate smile from behind her, as well as the shake of his head as he turned to toast another bagel. The couch had lumps in all sorts of strange places, and it took her a while to settle into a comfortable spot. Now if only she would not be disturbed again for the rest of the day she would be happy. After she finished eating, Eliza dragged her thumb along the pink edge of her mouth to wipe off the remaining cream cheese (#LowFat). She was wearing a fluffy purple robe that Henry had bought her for her birthday, being too lazy that Saturday morning to change as soon as she got up. Normally she would have already glammed herself up with hairspray, body spray, and any other kind of spray that cosmetics could have provided to give her an Internet-ready appearance. Today, however, she had nowhere to be and figured she could use the day off. Her past self would have fainted at the thought, as Eliza had always lived off of the approval of others, but she had long since learned that that was not going to keep her going. Anyway, her adorkable workaholic husband had seen her in worse states.

_Speaking of my adorkable workaholic,_ Eliza thought, glancing up from her phone to see Henry's classic frown face as he stared at the newspaper in his hand and munched on his own breakfast bagel. Like, who even read print anymore? Dear John Mayer, did he always have to be fifty years behind everyone else? Eliza was about to say this aloud when she noticed something. Henry was leaning so close to the newspaper that his nose practically bumped into the page, and his eyes were squinting to the point that they were mere slits. It reminded her of when she was little and was first starting to have trouble reading the whiteboard at the front of the classroom… Eliza gasped and launched herself from the couch to the chair across from Henry. She dropped her chin into her hand and gazed at Henry, who managed a friendly glance before resuming his activity. The newspaper crinkled, and Eliza began swinging her crossed leg while she continued to watch Henry.

Without looking up, Henry asked, "Is there something you need, sweetie?"

"Nope," Eliza replied. "Just wondering what you're reading."

"Um…" Henry sighed. "Something about taxes."

"Can you be a little more specific?"

"Why the sudden interest in taxes? I'm the one who fills out the forms."

"You're right. I'm only asking because I want to know if you can actually read that article."

Henry gave her a pointed look. "I'll have you know that my mother taught me to read when I was four years old, and I hope you had a similar education."

Eliza rolled her eyes and dropped her hand from her face. "I didn't mean to ask if you were literate - and yes, Henry, I know what that word means so don't give me that look. I'm asking if you can see the words in front of your face."

"What are you talking about? Of course I can."

"Then read me a sentence."

"What?"

"Come on, if you read me one sentence I promise I'll leave you alone."

Henry straightened his back and gave the newspaper a firm shake to remove the wrinkles. Eliza heard him take a breath, but she didn't hear anything come out for a good ten seconds before she decided that enough was enough.

"Henry, should I make an appointment with the eye doctor?" she inquired.

"No, I'm perfectly fine!" asserted Henry. "I don't need to see a doctor."

"Okay, do you like have this fear of doctors or something? Because that'd be kind of odd since you dated Julia and she was a doctor."

"I don't have a fear of doctors."

"Well, then what's the problem? If you keep going on like this, you won't even be able to see where my mouth is so you can kiss me. And I can't have that."

"You're always saying how you want me to neck you."

"Henry, be serious!"

Funny, it usually had to be Henry to tell _her_ to be serious.

Henry massaged his face with his hand and sighed. "I don't need glasses."

"Yes, you do," stated Eliza.

"I can't need glasses, I can't!"

Henry banged the table with the flat of his palm, and Eliza jumped.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Henry's frown deepened and he buried his face in his hands.

Eliza's face contorted with compassion as she stood up and climbed into a grimacing Henry's lap. She clasped her hands behind his tan neck, and he brushed his hand back and forth along her thigh.

"What's this all about?" Eliza cooed.

"I don't want to talk about it," Henry muttered, looking down.

Eliza's finger forced his chin up and she glared at him.

"Talk," she ordered, losing all softness.

Henry blinked. "I already feel old as it is, I don't want glasses reminding me even more."

Eliza couldn't help it; she laughed. Just when Henry looked about ready to shove her off his lap, Eliza caressed his cheek and kissed his nose.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "But glasses are not going to make you old. What difference would it make even if they did?"

"I've had to take so much crap because of the age difference between us," said Henry. "I don't want to be out at a restaurant with you, take out my glasses because I can't read the menu, and then have some random guy calling me Gramps."

"Only Freddy would do that, and that's more because he's jealous."

Henry dropped his head to lean it against the back of his chair. "Maybe."

"No 'maybe.' It doesn't even matter what other people say. You could be sixty for all I care."

Henry only winced more.

"Okay, wrong thing to say," admitted Eliza. "The point I'm trying to make is that I love you as you are. Hey, that's a lot of growth on my part don't you think?"

Henry smiled, but he still didn't look convinced enough. So, she rolled off of him and began to strut down the hallway, ignoring Henry's confused voice calling after her. When Eliza returned, she had a paper bag on her head and, as usual, Henry had no idea what was going to come next.

"Presenting…" began Eliza in a booming voice that imitated that of a circus announcer, "Eliza 'Butt' Dooley!"

Eliza tore off the paper bag and revealed herself wearing giant, thick glasses, which similar to the glasses that had earned her the unoriginal nickname of "Four-Eyes" in addition to "Most Butt." Eliza wasn't thinking about that though, because all she cared about as she wiggled her fingers and stuck out her tongue was making Henry happy - even at the cost of looking like an idiot. Henry made a noble effort at maintaining a neutral expression, but finally the mask cracked with a sudden laugh.

"Stop that," said Henry in between chuckles. "You don't look 'butt' in glasses. I think you're cute in them."

"Well who's to say you wouldn't, too?" asked Eliza. "You could be one of those professor types with the bow-ties and button-up shirts and square glasses… Oh, if I put mine on and pretended to be your _favorite _student - "

"Please, don't turn my getting glasses into one of your role-playing games."

Eliza gasped. "Aha! So you do agree to get glasses!"

Henry opened his mouth, but was unable to come up with a retort, so he just smiled.

"Yes, I do," he said.

"'Kay, then I'm making an appointment before you try to weasel out of it."

Eliza walked over to the phone (which was the color of the yolk of a sunny side up egg and required her to turn a ring instead of push buttons) and began calling the number of her eye doctor. Holding the handset up to her ear, Eliza turned to Henry with a slight frown and a stare that danced between the fragility of tissue paper and the hardness of a metamorphosed rock.

"If this mid-life crisis of yours continues, you'd better not run off with a sexy blond in a convertible. It's way too cliché."

Henry blinked, and then grinned. "No way. I'm into hot redheads."

A cheeky smile that mirrored Henry's came onto Eliza's face. "I knew there was a reason I picked you."

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><p><strong>I've had this headcanon for a while that Henry would be in denial about eventually needing glasses. It kind of expanded into this, but since I didn't think it was long enough to be its own fic, I decided to add it to my wedding fic as a small collection of one-shots. I don't know what I'll write next, if I write anything. Break is over soon. #SaveSelfie<strong>


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